I Write

 

 

 

All the pain that haunts my nightmares
And obscures reality
Fodders my pen
For all the sorrow that none can comprehend
The pain that comes with a bleeding heart like mine
When they run and hide from aching they cannot bare
For the broken heart and bleeding hands
I write.

For the joys I've yet to know
And the chemicals I taste
For the restraints I place in vain
I write. 

For the ashes on my crappy keyboard
That fall when I’m too deep in thought
For the friends that have long forgotten my existence
And have left me to my own fight
For my sanity
I write.

Unwillingly, they taste my pain
As they consume my words like blessed manna
And in the end find themselves empty as me.

Maybe they'll find the will to write
Maybe they'll sing a song or create great art
When you’re full of what the sane call heart
You find your soul empty and lacking
What your heart desires most
Still . . .
I write. 

And they judge my words and rate my pain
Exist in a world I’ll never comprehend
Despite the confusion and the hollow ache of emptiness
The lost feeling I cannot even attempt to explain
Despite it all
I write. 

 

 

By Amanda M. Burns

© Amanda Saylor nee Burns. All rights reserved